How to Make a Perfect Cup of Coffee
by leafyaki
Summary: Jean Kirchstein had made the perfect cappuccino for his angel. He had told a brilliant joke involving a long-dead traveler. All that's left is to get his number. Problem: Eren Jaegar being the biggest cockblock in history. Cue the attempt to get together with the love of his life while battling the worst rival one could ever have. It's a terrible, terrible world he lives in.
1. Step One: Gather Your Ingredients

**Warnings**: Manga characters not yet in the anime appear. Also, minor characters who I have a huge bias for. Terribly inaccurate coffee-making. Possible OOC-ness. Boys being stupid. Lots of cussing. From people who've kindly read and commented, they say there're tons of secondhand embarrassment. You have been warned.

**Disclaimers**: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin. The steps to making coffee have been found through WikiHow. Nor do I own the initial idea. For the initial idea, I thank the OP of the SnK kink meme prompt, as well as Marcobutt and Terriblyfaggy on Tumblr for the description, set-up, conversation, and comic that have been the inspiration of this first chapter (marcobutt. tumblr post/57805273902/scentless-adult-modern-barista-au -marco-is-ordering).

I hope you enjoy!

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Step One: Gather Your French Press and Ingredients

He had memorized the guy's coffee order.

Eren rolls his eyes whenever Jean says this, because a customer coming here for the first time and ordering _once_ doesn't mean Jean can memorize anything. Jean flips him off and sighs at the way the guy's lips and tongue had rolled over that one word, Jean's favourite word in the world now. _Cappuccino._ Jean thinks it might not be too late if he starts now and drinks cappuccinos for the rest of his life.

"You're an idiot, Kirschtein," Eren declares for the fifth time that day.

"Can it, Jaegar," Jean snaps. At least, he had meant to snap, but it comes out as some sort of half sigh. Jean is magnanimous though, because his co-worker, with his messy hair and glaring eyes and eternal frown, couldn't possess a single romantic bone in his body. Of course he doesn't. Just look at the coffee he drinks. What sort of freak can down a triple espresso and still sleep at night? Freak.

Marco, on the other hand. Jean knows him well, because he had stared at the guy during the whole five minutes he had been here. With his intent focus on his book, and those freckles on his high cheekbones standing out in their well-lit café. Jean imagines the way he will sip his coffee and leave a foam moustache he isn't aware of and that Jean will ache to wipe off with his thumb, or lick off –

Eren snaps his fingers in front of Jean's face and makes an impatient noise. Unromantic, and rude to boot. Jean scowls and says, "What?"

"In case you've forgotten, we're at work," Eren says with a huff, one hand planted on his hip. It makes him look like a girl – Jean thinks of pointing it out, but that will end in a brawl, which is not good for work, so he reminds himself of his magnanimity and refrains. Besides, what if the Marco guy comes in and sees them fighting? All hopes of getting his number will be dashed.

The bell above the door rings, as though the gods above – or maybe just their boss – have sensed the impending fight. Eren turns to say a professional "Welcome to _Wings_."

_Home to Heavenly Coffee,_ Jean thinks, sarcastic tone and all. He turns around as well.

And has to duck beneath the counter immediately.

Eren looks at him with an expression that says, without words, _What the fuck now, Kirschtein_? Though the small smile tugging at his lips means the fucker knows exactly why Jean is hiding under the counter, only the top half of his head visible because he needs to see this. Because none other than Marco not-Polo had walked through the doors and is looking for a good seat. He is looking for a seat. He's not going to order take-away coffee, at least for a while, and Jean will be free to stare at him.

"Oh god, that's him," he whimpers. "What if he remembers me? That's going to be so embarrassing."

"You're already an embarrassment, what's the difference?" Eren says, sounding distracted. "Is he not gonna order a drink? He's just gonna freeload off our wi-fi?"

"Stop being an asshole, Jaegar," Jean says, as distracted as Eren is, because Marco had decided on a bar-top seat by the window which has a convenient charging point, and when he hops into his seat Jean decides the guy has a very fine ass.

He would have been contented to hide behind the counter forever, but Eren whacks the top of his head with an oven mitt and barks at him to get up, a gaggle of girls is heading their way, which means they'll need to actually make coffee soon. Seeing the girls Eren had mentioned – giggly and frilly and with too much make-up – Jean knows it'll be four frappuccinos of varying tastes.

"How may I help you?" Eren asks with a smile. Jean has to admire how Eren is able to smile like he's not some criminally insane guy obsessed with antagonizing Jean. He's such a professional liar.

The girls giggle – do they never stop giggling? It's distracting him from studying the way sunlight hits Marco's hair – and one of them twirls their hair around a finger. Eren's smile does not wavers. "Two mocha frappuccinos, and two green tea frappuccinos, please. Size tall."

Something above Eren's left eye twitches. "We do not carry that size, miss."

"Oh!" A hand flies to her mouth and the rest giggle even more, though one of them has the good grace to hide her face with a hand, as though in embarrassment. "What was I thinking? I meant, small, please."

Eren nods and keys in the order. "And your name?"

The girl leans forward, resting against the counter and emphasizing her generous breasts. "Jenny," she says in a breathy voice. "Do you need my number too?"

Jean almost has to laugh at the way Eren leans back subtly. "Your name will be enough, Miss…Jenny. We'll call you when your order's ready. That'll be 16.80, please."

She pouts. Jean thinks, _it's always Eren, the bastard_. Because when he had written a huge fat "POLO" on Marco's cup, Eren had groaned and Marco had taken his drink and left without a word. And what did Eren do? Zero flirtation skills and he still manages to get the girls gagging for him.

Well, no matter. Because he's sure Marco had given him a smile when he left the café. A small one. Miniscule, really. Maybe just a twitch in facial muscles, but still. Score one for Jean Kirschtein. He stares dreamily in Marco's direction, where he's sure the sunlight has formed a small halo above the guy's head.

"You've heard the order," Eren says, kicking Jean in the side none-too-gently. "We've got some frappuccinos to make. Quit staring. It's fucking creepy."

He sniffs and draws himself up to his full height. "I'm not staring. I'm being observant." Still he spoons out good, ground coffee, not the instant shit that other brand name chain stores are using, while Eren does the same with premium matcha imported from Kyoto. _Wings_ is one of its kind, with genuinely awesome coffee and, to top it all off, angelic customers that have kissable freckles and charming smiles. Jean's only complaint is his co-worker, though he has to admit that Eren Jaegar whips up a mean coffee, always fragrant and just sweet enough.

Eren glances at the thermometer in the hot water and gives an approving nod at the temperature, pours the liquid into two containers for Jean and him. Jean grabs two blenders and a tray of ice cubes, catches the milk carton from Eren and whisks it into the mixture that will soon become mocha. Eren had even dug the chocolate syrup out of the fridge and placed it by his hand.

He might hate the bastard, but Jean has to agree that they work well together.

The sound of the blenders whirring away almost distracts him from the fact that Marco had left his seat to approach the counter. And before he could do anything Eren had grabbed Jean's hand, placed it on top of the blender with green tea in it, and left to get Marco's order.

Scratch the bit about working well together. Jean well and truly hates the bastard.

He stops the blender when the drinks are at the right consistency. Jean pretends to be concentrating on pouring the mixtures into cups with "Jenny" scrawled over them, but really his ears are trained on the conversation Eren and Marco are having. Perhaps conversation would be stretching it a bit. Eren asks for Marco's order, gets "cappuccino" in return – _I knew it!_ Jean thinks with triumph – asks for his name, gets, well, his name in return. As though they both didn't know his name from his first visit. Gets the payment, and cheerily tells Marco to hold on until his order is done.

Jean nearly overfills the first cup with how hard he had been trying to hear Marco's sweet voice. He hastily fills a second cup with green tea frappuccino and ignores the grin Eren shoots his way.

"So are you going to make the coffee, or am I?"

"Shut up."

Eren laughs and grabs a cup, scrawling Marco's name on it. That in itself is an answer, Jean thinks as he leaves the rest of the drinks to Eren and collects some ground espresso. He's going to make the best damn cappuccino Marco has ever tasted. Then the guy will swoon, and then Jean will have his number, and then it will be Score Two for him while Eren mopes in the background. It's a perfect plan. Even if it's a pain in the ass to foam the milk just right, but he _needs_ to give Marco a coffee orgasm.

He's so hard at work he doesn't take a second glance at the cup Eren hands to him, just places it under the espresso dispenser and knits his brow in concentration. He can even throw in some coffee art, a heart or something. No, that'll be too obvious. A leaf? A cat? Marco seems like the type who likes cats. Jean decides to draw a cat.

The concoction is perfect. The foamed milk had made the coffee creamy, and his cat looks like a cat with a sweet smile – _shut up Jaegar that's not a deranged look_ – and he had even sprinkled some ground cinnamon on the foam. He's sure to get a date at the very least.

Eren whisks it away, puts on a lid – Jean wants to protest _but what about the cat_? – and marches away to the waiting area. Jean scrambles after him. He will not let Eren steal the glory, this cappuccino's all Jean's work, it has his hopes written all over it. The chances of getting Marco's number rides on this.

Then he sees the name Eren has written on the cup and he thinks, wait, had he been painstakingly making a cappuccino for Ferdinand Magellan all this while? A guy who has been dead for more than half a millennium? Is this Eren's idea of a sick joke? But Marco is looking at him with a quizzical expression, perfect black hair parted in the middle over his wide forehead and the top button of his shirt undone and one slim hand resting on his bag, and Jean forgets everything about a dead Portuguese fellow. He has to grip onto the counter and try not to trip over his feet.

Eren grins, hands the coffee over the counter to Marco, and says, "I hope this is a traveler people haven't made dumb jokes about to you."

Marco looks stunned.

Jean _is_ stunned.

Why hadn't _he_ thought of that? What is Eren insinuating? Jean does not make dumb jokes, thank you very much. But more importantly, why is Marco not looking at Jean? Jean, who had made the cappuccino with extra tender loving care? Eren hadn't even said anything particularly funny. He is just being an ass like usual.

Then Marco smiles and Jean tries not to slump into the ground, because Marco looks like an angel. No, he _is_ an angel. Even if the smile is aimed at Eren fucking Jaegar and – is that a laugh? It is. Marco is laughing, and it's a light, boyish sound that does not make Jean want to tear out his eardrums like at those girls' giggles, it's a laugh that makes his eyes wrinkle and that makes dimples appear. Dimples. Jean stares.

Eren chuckles as well. Jean makes a sound like a dying whale. Marco looks at Eren with soft eyes and walks away, turning and giving a small wave before he goes through the doors.

A small silence follows during which Jean tries to breathe normally. "Well, he does seem like a nice guy," Eren finally says.

Jean regains the strength in his legs and lunges at Eren, grabbing onto his apron. Eren yelps. The rest of the people in the café sip at their coffees peacefully, as though it is an everyday occurrence and they are used to it. "Damnit, Jaegar! My one chance, my one fucking chance, and you had to go and ruin it!"

"What _is_ your problem, Jean!" Eren says, looking more and more pissed off. It makes his eyes seem like they're burning with the light. "You would have just said something stupid and we would have lost a customer! I'm surprised he even came back, honestly."

"I would not have said something stupid!" Jean protests. He would not have made any Marco Polo jokes for sure. Maybe just ask Marco if he wanted to play the Marco Polo game, that's all. How would that be stupid? Marco would give his small laugh and give Jean his contact number so that they could hang out and play that game, and maybe more.

Now it's Score One for both Jean and Eren, because Marco had not even looked in Jean's direction once the whole time Eren had been flirting with him. Eren, who had not a romantic bone in him.

Eren works Jean's grip off him and huffs. "If you have nothing better to do than think up stupid jokes then get to cleaning, Kirsch – right, seriously, are you okay?"

Jean had buried his face in his hands and is groaning and muttering curses, because Eren Jaegar is a fucking bastard who does not deserve to breathe the same air he does. Now Marco will never know that Jean had drawn the cat to make him happy, he will think it's all Eren's work, Jean should have signed his name on it or something.

Eren touches his shoulder hesitantly, as though afraid he'll catch some disease from Jean, something that will strip away his sanity.

"Go away, Jaegar," he says. It comes out muffled because he's still covering his face with his hands. He does not want to see Eren. He wants to keep the image of Marco smiling in his mind forever. Nevermind that it hadn't been aimed at him.

He can imagine Eren rolling his eyes. "Such a drama queen. I'll tell the boss to dock your pay."

And Jean really, really wants Eren to stop talking and to just let him wallow in misery and self-righteousness. Also because all Eren's horrible terrible no-good voice is doing is reminding him of the angelic sounds of Marco laughing and, in the background, a delighted chuckle very unlike Marco's working its way into and weaving around the boyish laughter.


	2. Step Two: Grind the Beans

Chapter Summary: In which Marco makes a re-appearance, and Jean manages to talk with him. Somewhat. If you can consider that a conversation.

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Step Two: Grind the Beans

The problem about confiding in Armin Arlelt is that he is also Eren Jaegar's best friend and, as such, he is more inclined to view the catastrophe in a balanced manner. But even if he's not on Jean's side, he thinks Armin will never be so petty as to always take Eren's side. Armin is a reasonable, sensible person. To this day Jean has never figured out why Armin chose to hang out with Eren, and since he cannot quite figure it out, he'll just put it down as Eren being not only the most bloody-minded git the world has ever seen, but also a manipulative bloody-minded git.

It also means that before Jean had thought of approaching Armin for advice, Eren had likely already told Armin the story. Armin's expression as Jean marches to him now is a mix of amusement and dread, smothered over by an attempt at neutrality when Jean is closer. He gathers his papers and books and places them in his bag. Thank goodness that in the sprawling campus, he has chosen a little nook nobody ever visits – it means Jean will be able to rant in peace.

Jean slides a take-away coffee over the table the same time he says, "Eren is an asshole."

Armin sighs and accepts the coffee. "When is he not?" he says in a patient, let's-humour-the-lovesick-fool way.

Jean takes that as his sign to launch into a self-righteous rant. Armin is the perfect listener. He sips his coffee, nods in the right places, makes sympathetic noises, and seems to fully understand the importance of how angelic Marco is, how Jean and him will become a match made in heaven, how Jean is the only one who will make a perfect cup of cappuccino for him complete with award-winning coffee art, and above all how Eren will never ever be able to top Jean when it comes to romance.

Armin bites his lip so hard it's like he's going to draw blood. For a while Jean is concerned, but Armin waves away his worries and takes another sip of coffee, ducking down to let his fringe hide his eyes, his shoulders shaking. It's probably just him being overwhelmed by the thought of how perfect Marco and Jean will be together. Jean takes his reaction as an invitation to further sketch out the perfection of Marco. He takes pains to elaborate on how Eren, blunt and harsh and annoyingly stubborn, will never be able to understand how Marco needs a sensitive man like Jean.

The whole story, from Marco's first step into the café, down to the important details like the cute cat Jean had drawn, to the end when Eren demonstrated the extent to which he can be an evil prick, took half an hour with few pauses on Jean's part and a lot of nodding on Armin's part. Jean's coffee also went cold by the end.

"Oh my god," Armin says in a small voice. Jean drinks his coffee and makes a face at it. Armin's lips twitch like they're not sure whether to smile or just let loose a round of laughter. "That's quite a story."

"Isn't it? The next time Marco visits – oh god, what should I do the next time he visits?" Jean says, his eyes wide. "Eren is bound to be a little shit again."

Armin coughs. "You guys don't always have the same shifts."

"You're right. I should find a pattern in when Marco comes to the café, and then arrange my shifts according to that!" That's why talking to Armin is a good idea – it sparks off ideas and makes Jean giddy at his own brilliance.

"Jean, the guy visited twice."

"Exactly! Last Friday at three, and then yesterday at two. So he comes in the afternoons and…oh…" He deflates a little when he realizes there's no definite pattern to Marco's visits. "Well, he might come again on Friday?"

"And Eren has a shift with you then, because he has Friday afternoons off," Armin points out.

"Can't you arrange something with him? Make it so he's not there?" Jean says. He had hoped the coffee will sweet talk Armin into giving him some advice and also being his partner in crime. No, wait, his partner in not-crime. His partner in orchestrating the greatest love affair the world will ever see.

"I have classes, Jean."

Well, that hope is dashed quickly enough.

"Um, how about Mikasa?"

"Jean…Mikasa and I have the same class," Armin says slowly. He seems apologetic when Jean's face falls. "Look, I'll talk to Eren, maybe get him to, um, give you a chance to talk to Marco? Only this time, please don't make anymore Marco Polo jokes. Please. _Please._"

Armin looks pained. Jean wonders why everyone is so huffy about his stroke of genius. Nobody has any decent sense of humour left. "Fine, I won't, okay?"

"Please make sure you don't. And just tell him you like him, for god's sake."

That's it? That's Armin's plan? "You don't just go up to someone and tell them that you have a crush on them!" he yelps.

"Why not? You did that with Mikasa last time," Armin says.

"That was when we were fifteen and idiotic!"

He swears he can hear Armin mutter "not that there's much difference now". Jean decides this corruption of Armin's personality is all Eren's fault, as everything always is.

"Armin, are you on my side or not? Help me!"

"I'm on nobody's side. And I _am_ trying – Jean, just go up to Marco and tell him you'd like very much to know him more. I haven't met the guy but if he's as, uh, angelic as you say he is…he'll at least hear you out."

"But – but – " Jean had been thinking of something more detailed. Like roses, bunches and bunches of roses. Or something cheerful like sunflowers. Maybe if he asks Nanaba he can get away with decorating the café in fragrant flowers that will surely make Marco smile.

"Stop." Armin's lips twitch again. "Don't overthink it. Just talk to him. Be normal. You can save the romance for later."

"First impressions count though," Jean says.

Armin chokes on his saliva then and has to cough a few times to clear it. As kindly as he can, he says, "I'm afraid his first impression of you may not have been very, uh, memorable. It's more like trying to repair the damage now."

"What damage?" Jean asks, genuinely confused.

Armin makes a face then. It's the "I'm talking to an idiot" face. Jean thinks he should feel insulted, but it's Armin, Armin does that even to his best friends on occasions, and it's hard to get pissed off at him when the guy is trying to help him. Armin's tone becomes stern when he says, "Jean. Talk to him like a normal person. Don't make jokes. Ask him whether he's a student, what book he's reading, whatever you like, as long as it's not creepy. Not _too_ creepy."

Jean has doubts. But if Armin, the smartest guy he knows, dishes out this advice, then he decides he'll take it. Didn't he say the romance can wait? And in any case Jean needs time to find a good florist to supply him with the largest number of sunflowers possible. "Thanks man. I'll let you know how it goes."

Armin hums and says, under his breath, "I don't doubt you will."

.

He thinks maybe he should get into a religion. Find a good god to pray to. Whatever gods are watching over him now, they're probably laughing and nudging each other aside for the best view. Maybe sharing a large bucket of popcorn.

Because Marco had walked into the café on a sunny, busy Friday afternoon while he and Nanaba are making four lattes and two espressos. Jean knows because the tinkling of the bells had announced an angel's arrival and he had seen, out of the corner of his eye, that perfect hair parted over a perfect forehead. But the gods have planned this – Eren is handling the register, and Jean must have killed someone in his past life because the gods apparently refuse to let him get laid.

"Jean," Nanaba hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "That's more than enough milk."

"Sorry," Jean mutters and his hand stops. The orders are flashing in the screen in front of them as Eren keys them in and the line inches forward. The café is nearly full today because of the anniversary twenty percent discount, and almost all staff are on hand to deal with the flood of customers. Jean thinks, his heart sinking, that Marco is going to get take-away coffee, and he'll only be able to speak to him for a minute, maybe two if he's lucky. Or maybe not at all, judging from the number of orders. And the fact that Nanaba, usually sweet and lenient to his juniors, will not hesitate to pull him back by the ear if he's taking too long to deliver the drinks.

"I've got the matcha," Gerger announces, using his hip to bump open the door.

Nanaba sighs in relief. "Three matcha lattes incoming."

"Gotcha."

It's almost too crowded at the work station, but with some quick arrangement they're all able to reach the milk, coffee, sugar, chocolate, and whatever else easily enough. Jean is forced to focus on whisking and blending and pouring for a while until he hears, from the direction of the register,

"Hello, what would you like?"

"Hi, Eren."

Jean nearly crushes the cup in his hand. Nanaba makes a sound of panic and manages to salvage the drink from his hand. "Jean!"

Jean isn't able to reply. "Kid, a fly's gonna get in if yer don't shut yer mouth," Gerger says with a laugh.

"This isn't the time for epiphanies," Nanaba scolds. He holds his hand out and Gerger places the bottle of chocolate syrup in it. "Jean, go deliver the drinks."

Why does Marco know Eren's name? More importantly, why does Marco sound so happy? Jean whimpers and barely notices when Gerger shoves a tray of drinks into his hands and pushes him to the waiting area. He somehow manages to do his job of passing the drinks to the correct people, only because he needs to get back as fast as he can to find out more.

Of course, because the gods are watching a soap opera, when he gets back he finds Marco had already placed his order. The "cappuccino" order is flashing on the screen.

"I'll take the cappuccino," he says to Nanaba and Gerger.

"After you've finished the frapps," Nanaba says, looking and sounding less tense now that the orders have slowed down.

"Deal."

"What's so special about this cappuccino?" Gerger asks. It's a reasonable question, since Jean and Eren tend to just make what their seniors tell them to during rush hours.

"Oh, nothing," Jean says with an attempt at nonchalance. "Just wanted to practice making it a bit more."

"Jean wants to make it for his not-boyfriend."

Jean growls. Nanaba beams. "There you are, Eren! No one else in the line? The mochas are all yours."

"Sure," Eren says, smirking in Jean's direction. Jean decides to focus all his energy on a mental image of strangling Eren by the strings of his aprons. With that image in mind he starts making the frappuccinos as fast as he can.

"What's this about a not-boyfriend, _hmm_?" Gerger asks with a badly concealed grin.

"You sound like a pervert, Gerger." Nanaba rolls his eyes then asks, "So what _is_ it about?"

"Like yer much better."

"Healthy curiosity on my part."

"Jean is crushing on a customer," Eren replies, ignoring Jean sputtering in the background.

"Oooooh." The twinkle in Nanaba's eye is not a good sign. Knowing him he's going to poke his nose into this and tease for all it's worth. "Who's the guy then?"

"I thought fer sure you two had something going on," Gerger says, sounding disappointed.

"Who?" Eren asks. For once he and Jean have the same look of confusion.

"Ne'ermind. So who's the kid?"

"Black hair, freckles, mm, a bit taller than Jean. Nice eyes."

This is why Eren cannot do romance. Jean is just choosing not to say anything, because he had finished his frappuccinos and is moving on to the star of the day, the cappuccino with Marco's name written all over it. If it is up to Jean, he would have said "the guy with the constellation of freckles on his high cheekbones, smooth hair carefully parted in the middle, eyes twinkling with confidence and humour, shy smile and boyish laughter". That is a more befitting description of Marco.

"I have to see who this is." Nanaba grabs the prepared drinks and places it on the tray. He winks at Jean before heading over to the customers.

"Uh oh," Gerger deadpans. "Nanaba's curious."

Eren hums and does some coffee art of his own on the mochas. Jean spies from the corner of his eye that Eren is drawing an intricate leaf. Well, he won't be outdone. He makes sure his cat is as cute as it was last time, then Marco will know, for sure, that it's him.

"He's cute," Nanaba declares when he comes back. "I approve. Have you talked to him yet?"

Before Jean can say anything Eren laughs and says, "His name is Marco. And Jean called him Marco Polo."

"You didn't." Nanaba looks horrified as he turns to stare at Jean.

"You did." Gerger seems like he's about to bust a rib from trying not to laugh.

"Come on, you have to admit it was funny!" Jean says, lifting his eyes only after he's sure his cat is perfect. He crosses his arms when Nanaba's look of horror does not abate. "What?"

Nanaba points a finger in Jean's face, making him jump. "You. You are going to go there now, with this cappuccino, and you're going to talk to him. You're not allowed back until you've had a conversation that does not involve dumb jokes."

"Not making dumb jokes is physically impossible for him," Eren says, sweeping past with his batch of mochas.

"That may be so – " Jean wants to yelp with the injustice of it all – "but you're going to try, aren't you, Jean?"

"Nanaba's inner romantic is coming out," Gerger says in a stage whisper. "Better do as he says."

"I, um – " Jean clears his throat with an attempt at suave unconcern. "Yeah. Right, yes." The cappuccino with the cat seems to wink at him, like it's encouraging him on. _You know Marco will love me, then you'll get his number,_ the cat seems to say as its smile wavers in the foam.

This is it. This is the moment. When Armin had somehow convinced Eren to give him some space to talk to Marco, when Nanaba has thwarted the gods' attempt in preventing him from getting laid, when his cappuccino is more perfect than ever. Jean wipes his sweaty palms on his pants and takes that one precious cup of coffee, tries not to trip over himself as he makes his way to the counter. Eren passes him on the way back and mutters, as some sort of encouragement, "Don't spill the coffee, goddamnit."

Jean is so nervous he doesn't think of replying. Because waiting for his coffee and reading a book is Marco. Marco. Who looks up and gives a small smile at Jean when he sees the coffee in his hand.

"Thank you, Jean."

In that moment Jean swears his mind explodes. The noise of the café fades away into nothing. He has found his new favourite word. His name, said in Marco's voice. It echoes in his mind, like it had been shouted into a mountain range. _Jean, Jean, Jea – _

Distantly he's aware that Marco has tilted his head and is asking something. Something like, "um, excuse me?" It manages to shock him into thinking something other than "you sound like clear bells at midnight".

"How – how do you know my name?" Jean manages to ask.

Great. That's not what he had planned to say. He had planned to make some smart statement on the book Marco's reading (_War and Peace and War_, what?). Marco looks at him like he's not quite right in the head, and he points at Jean's chest and says, "Um, your nametag?"

_Oh_. That's right. Nanaba had these made for them. For a moment he's elated – so Marco did not know Eren's name beforehand, hah, take that! Then it crashes into disappointment, because Marco knowing his name does not have any special meaning then.

His emotions must have played out on his face – Marco looks at him for a while then says, "You're a funny guy, Jean."

Jean hopes his voice does not crack when he says, "What?" Eloquence at its finest there. Did Marco just compliment him? He'll take it as a compliment, because Marco has a tiny smile. "Um."

"I'll have my coffee, please?"

Jean looks down to find he is still holding the coffee. "Oh. Oh, uh, yeah." He hands the coffee over and feels the brief brush of Marco's fingers against his. Oh lord. It's Marco's fingers, soft and – is that a callous? Does he play the guitar? Practice fencing? Baseball? _What left that callous there_? How is it going to feel like on his –

"Thanks."

Then Marco is leaving. Marco is leaving and all Jean had managed to ask was a stupid question, followed by lots of pointless stuttering. Nanaba will be doubly horrified. Eren will laugh, that smug bastard. And Jean will never get his number.

It's the last thought that prompts him to blurt out "Marco!" It stops Marco in his tracks and attracts the attention of half the café. He turns around with a questioning expression on his face.

"Yes?"

Jean doesn't know what to say. All he had known was that he couldn't let the conversation end there. What should he talk about? Ask for Marco's number? Talk about the book?

In a state of great confusion his mind focuses on the cup in Marco's grip. "The, um, the foam cat. Do you like it?"

He hears somebody snicker. That is unimportant compared to Marco's blank stare. Then he lifts the lid and peers at the coffee. "Oh. It's nice. You did this the last time too?"

Marco remembers the cat. Jean feels like he could die now and he'll be happy. Except not really, because he has yet to get Marco's number. "Yeah."

"Cool. Thanks."

Then before Jean could say anything more Marco really does walk out of the café, the tinkling of the bells signaling an angel's departure. The second he does, Nanaba grabs Jean by the neck of his apron and drags him back, nearly choking him. Gerger had dissolved into raucous laughter behind the counter. Jean registers this in a haze – what has just happened?

"Oh, Jean," Nanaba murmurs in an amused and pitying way. He smoothes Jean's apron and mutters apologies for choking him.

"He knows my name," Jean says in an awed whisper.

Gerger wheezes and gives up trying to hold in his laughter. With the show over, most of the café patrons go back to minding their own business, ignoring Gerger's roars of amusement.

"He seems like a nice guy," Nanaba says, managing to make himself heard over the noise.

"That was lame." Eren's voice, grating and annoying, cuts through the haze of Jean's mind.

"Shut up, Jaegar," Jean replies on autopilot, his mind still stuck on the way Marco had said his name.

"Eren," Nanaba says, effectively delivering a warning with one word. Eren mimes zipping his mouth shut. "Well, at least you, uh, spoke to him. Without dumb jokes."

"I'll say, that was the funniest shit I've ever seen. If only I had a drink to go with that." It seems like Gerger had managed to drag himself up from the ground and was speaking with only the occasional choked chuckle. "Yer really like him, huh?"

"I'd say that's obvious," Nanaba says. He pats Jean's shoulder and asks, "Jean, are you with us?"

"Yeah," Jean breathes. Of course he is. He couldn't be anywhere else but in this perfect world where Marco had said Jean's name, had noticed and complimented his cat. _This is so beautiful, Jean,_ the Marco in his mind says, with a bright beam and eyes that are glistening, _we'll have to go out together now, let me tell you all about the twelve children we'll have together_.

"He's not," Gerger says as he begins to arrange the ingredients now that the rush has died down for a while. Nanaba waves a hand in front of Jean's eyes, is met with a blissful expression and an unfocused gaze, and is forced to agree with Gerger's assessment. Gerger chuckles again and says, "Jean, take a break now. Eren, help me clean this up – oh, you dropped something?"

"Hmm?" Eren had wandered off to wipe the counter down. Not that Jean really cares, since the world is a wonderful mist now where only his conversation with Marco matters. As well as thoughts of the wonderful future they'll have together. The tiny part of his mind that is still conscious of his surroundings sits up and takes note when Eren looks back at Gerger examining the card. A card with his name scrawled on it. "Oh yeah, sorry, I didn't want to lose it, so I placed it on the counter."

"No prob – hey," Gerger squints at the name at the end of the card and stays silent for a while before he says, quiet in a way that captures all their attention, "isn't this from the Marco guy?"

* * *

Comments will always be appreciated :)


	3. Step Three: Add Ground Coffee to Carafe

Chapter Summary: In which boys fight in compromising positions.

* * *

When Jean and Armin once had a class about the universe and subjectivity and what-not, Armin had explained, complete with hand motions, that for every human being there is a moment when time just seems to stop even while the world keeps spinning, and options flash before that person's eyes, and that is where the theory of parallel universes spring from because each action would lead to a different outcome. Jean had been skeptical and, above all, sleepy. In other words, he hadn't paid much attention even while his brain absorbed the information.

But now Jean is convinced this is the moment for him. The moment where time has stopped and he has to struggle to breathe, because _what did Gerger say surely he just imagined it_?

The café chatters on. Behind the staff counter there is a long silence, until Eren turns back to wiping the counter and says, "Yep."

That one word breaks the standstill. The strange calm he had descended into gives way to horror. His mind flashes through his options. Number One – do nothing. Number Two – lunge for the card. Number Three – lunge for Eren, who's humming a strange little tune which seems to be mocking him. He's certain there are many other options, but his mind zooms in on the third, and his body is moving before he's even aware. He manages to not knock into Nanaba and Gerger as he runs to choke Eren. Or dunk his head into a sink full of soapy water. Anything, really, as long as Eren can feel the full force of Jean's wrath.

"_Oh my lord _Jean, what the fuck!"

"Eren Jaegar you bastard!"

"Oh dear," Nanaba says. The cloth Eren had been using flies over his head, straight onto a pile of clean cups. Nanaba thinks he'll have to get Eren to wash them all later, after he's finished trying to claw at Jean's face.

"Yeah," Gerger says. He props his elbow against the counter and his cheek against a fist, looking like he wishes there's a bag of popcorn so he can watch the show in comfort.

"Don't pretend you're innocent," Nanaba says, tone mild as his eyes follow the two boys struggling not to fall into the sink or knock all the coffee cups over. Some patrons in the café look over in curiosity before they decide their coffee is more interesting.

Gerger shrugs. "Better that Jean finds out now."

Nanaba hums. "This Marco guy is scary, huh?"

"Wouldn't have known Eren's his type."

"Hmm," Nanaba says, watching with Gerger as the two of them tussle with each other. By some sort of instinct they avoid knocking into the counter and messing up the ingredients. Eren dodges Jean's blows and manages to grab him by the front of the apron to haul him against the staff door. "When's Levi coming in?" Nanaba asks.

"He'll be here fer the early evening rush."

"Think those two will have enough time to clean up?"

"Eh, he'll kill 'em anyway."

"True," Nanaba says with a small sigh before he raises his voice. "Eren, move this to the staff lounge, will you?"

He isn't sure if Eren had heard him, but judging by the way they're scuffling and pulling at each other's hair (seriously?) and shuffling their feet in the direction of the lounge, Nanaba figures the work area is safe. He closes the door after them, ignoring the sounds of them cursing and yelping and generally making a mess. As much as he loves them, he's going to leave the aftermath to Levi.

"Well then, shall we clean up?" Nanaba says with a smile, swiping the card up and into his pocket for safekeeping – and to see what Marco had written. Never let it be said they do not care about their juniors' personal lives.

.

In the lounge, after suffering some blows to his cheeks and chest, Jean manages to throw Eren against the couch and pin him there against his will. Eren may be better at fighting, sore as Jean is to admit it, but he is no match against Jean when it comes to height and muscle mass. Jean narrowly avoids a kick to his family jewels and sits on Eren's legs, pinning his arms down. They're both panting by now.

"I don't even know what we're fighting about," Eren says after a while. He has stopped struggling, but Jean can see in Eren's eyes that he will not hesitate to attack should Jean let his guard down for a second.

This. This is exactly why Jean cannot stand the guy. Jean snarls and just manages to hold back from spitting when he says, "I hate you."

Eren scoffs. "Like that's news."

Jean grits his teeth and says, trying to keep his bewilderment and hurt out of his voice, "Marco gave you his number!"

"What? You're pissed off about that?" Eren looks like he cannot quite comprehend the situation. Jean just wants to punch him, but that will lead to another brawl, and Nanaba and Gerger won't be so generous as to give them an hour long break. "Look, he just asked whether I wanna hang out with him sometime, that's all."

That's all? _That's all_, he says? Jean makes a sound like a wounded animal. "You don't even like him and _you_ get his number?!"

"Uh, Jean, he's the one who gave it to me."

"I don't care!" This world is fucking unfair. "This is so against the rules!"

"What rules?!" Eren squirms again, trying to get some leverage. "You have a fucking crush, so bloody what? Are you gonna demand that he pays attention to no one but you?"

_Well, yeah_, a small part of Jean says. The part of his brain that's still working makes Jean sputter and say, "That's not the point! It's all your fault in the first place!"

Eren groans. "So I made sure you didn't say a stupid joke to Marco again, and that made him decide that unlike you, I'm actually a decent human being."

"If that's an attempt at a joke, I'm not laughing."

"Of course, because the only jokes you laugh at are the dumbass ones nobody cares about."

Jean really wants to punch Eren in the face. But then Eren will punch him in his, and he knows first hand how much that sucks. So Jean seethes and tries to strangle Eren instead with his shirt. "You absolute tosser."

Either Eren is some sort of freak, or Jean just have not mastered the technique for proper strangulation, because Eren is able to roll his eyes and say, "Look, if it bothers you that much, I can give you Marco's number and you can call him, I don't know, talk like you're not an asshole. If you can manage that."

Fucking bastard. There's no point if Marco does not give Jean his number personally. Because that's how it works in all the love stories. Jean snarls. "I will not accept your pity!"

"Who the fuck is pitying you?" Eren hisses, his attempt at calm cracking like thin ice. "I just want you off my case, dimwit! Stop pulling my shirt, it's gonna rip!"

Jean doesn't care about the fucking shirt with the strings that keeps Eren's collarbones from showing. Who the hell still wears shirts like that anyway? He's about to say all that to Eren and continue about the great injustice of Marco giving Eren his number when the door slams open. On instinct they freeze and turn their heads, very slowly, to face the door that leads in from the lockers and changing room. And they gulp in unison.

This is possibly one of the few times they stand united in the face of slaughter.

With one hand on the door and the other fixing his apron stands their head barista. Also known as their Captain. Sort of like the guy who would order you to stand on the plank with the pointy end of his sword and ask you, politely, to jump off the ship before he stabs you in the kidneys. His expression is as neutral as they've ever seen, which means they're dead.

Jean notices, a little too late, that he's sitting on Eren's knees, one hand fisted around Eren's shirt collar, and Eren's hands are on his shoulder. Angry as he is, even he recognizes this is not the best way to greet their Captain.

Without blinking, Levi says, "You're fired."

It takes Eren a moment to say, "Hi, Captain", as though there's nothing wrong with the situation.

"Don't you Captain me, hormonal brats. I'm going to have to disinfect the whole couch because of you two. Or buy a new one. And it's coming out of your pay."

"It's not what it seems like," Jean feels the need to say.

"That's what all people say before they fuck. And did you not hear me say you're fired?"

"Who the hell would fuck him?" Eren says. Apparently that's the bigger issue than getting fired.

"That's my line," Jean protests.

Levi rolls his eyes. "Do I look like I care? Off the couch, _now_."

"Levi, they're just having love troubles, and you know us adults shouldn't interfere with that," Nanaba says, his head popping in from around the door leading to the café. "Guys, five more minutes, then we'll need you at the counter."

"I said they're fired," Levi says, not looking too pleased at the interruption.

"Not today," Nanaba says with a grin before going back to the café. Gerger's the next one to pop his head around the door, look at the boys on the couch, whistle and waggle his eyebrows, then go back to his work lest Levi throw a knife at him.

"Before you say anything more, Captain, I'd just like you to know it's all Eren's fault," Jean says with righteous indignation.

"Yeah, because I'm the one throwing a tantrum over not getting a phone number, totally."

"Oh for – " Levi seems overwhelmed in the face of combined stupidity. "Just get off the couch, you little shits. I don't care about this fucking number thing. You two can get fucked ten ways over from hell to back for all I care. _Get off the couch_."

"In case you haven't noticed, Jean, you're sitting on me," Eren whispers, annoyed.

"Whose fault was it in the first place?" Jean mutters back, making sure his knee digs into Eren's side as he scrambles off.

"Who put a stick up your ass and left it there? Oh, let me guess. Not Marco."

Jean hisses and sees red for a moment. He's reminded of why he hates the guy so much. "That's low."

Eren shrugs and mutters, softer, "I did offer to share his number with you."

"Did we employ you guys to have a lover's spat in the lounge every time you want to jump each other's bones?" Levi barks, his eyes narrowed so much they're like snake slits. He looks satisfied when they jump and shake their heads. "I didn't think so. Get your asses out there, you're fired after today."

"No they're not!" Nanaba says, voice carrying through the half opened door. "Levi, do you have any idea how hard it is to find baristas who can actually make coffee?"

"Just 'cos they're brats ain't mean they're not good!" Gerger adds with a chuckle. "Plus they provide entertainment."

His life is not entertainment for them, Jean wants to protest. Even if it seems like the gods are milking this soap opera for all it's worth, it's a serious thing, alright? Getting Marco's number is the first step to a once in a lifetime romance, if only Eren Jaegar did not put his great arse out there and ruin it for Jean. The expression on Levi's face tells him to shut up, like he's tired of hearing this before he's even heard it.

"You're still fired," Levi mutters.

"Um, I believe boss is the only one who can decide that?" Eren dares to say before Levi turns his glare on him. "Right, sorry, shutting my mouth now."

"Mike is too much of a damn softie to fire you guys. Fuck. I hate this life," Levi says with a groan, massaging his temples with his fingers. "You little shits put one more toe out of line – "

"Yes, castration and the package, we get it, Captain," Jean says with his most winsome smile.

Levi shudders at the expression on his face. "Did I tell you to talk, horse-face?"

Levi is wrong. Jean is the one who hates his life. Especially so when he sees Eren's shoulders shaking and the guy turning his face away.

"Or you, shitface?"

"N-no, Captain," Eren chokes out.

"I thought so. And you're both staying back today to clean the whole café. And the lounge. I had better not see a speck of dust tomorrow. _Is that clear?_"

"Yes!" They both hurry to say, a fear for their lives and their dicks uniting them. They have seen how Levi handles the knife and are ninety percent sure he has some medical background, probably knows how to castrate them in the most painful way without them dying from blood loss. Satisfied with the colour draining from their faces, Levi heads through the door to the café, choosing to endure Nanaba's cheer and Gerger slapping him on the ass rather than continue looking at them.

Jean bites back his groan. He has the early shift tomorrow as well. And he was supposed to be able to knock off at seven today to go home and drown in the shower while wailing sad songs. Now he has to clean the café with his enemy. His rival in love.

"If you hadn't gone crazy back then – " Eren says, rolling his eyes.

"You have Marco's number," Jean mutters, as though that justifies everything that Eren would suffer through. He would suffer gladly if he had those important digits.

"And I said I would give it to you if you asked," Eren says, looking clueless as to why Jean is so hung up over the whole thing.

But it really is pointless if Jean has to resort to stealing the number from his enemy. He had hopes, scenes in his mind of Marco passing his number to him, Jean's fingers shaking before he first dials the number and sets up a date. And now? Now that's what Eren is going to do, and he doesn't even like Marco the way Jean does.

"Nevermind," Jean mutters, shoving through the door before Eren can send him any more confused looks. He hates that burning sensation behind his eyes, so he tries to ignore it. Considering that Levi is going to be ordering his ass around it will be easy, he thinks.

But he makes sure to avoid looking in Eren's direction the rest of the day, despite Nanaba's worried glances and the blanket of nervous tension that hangs over them.

.

"And that's how Eren ruined my life," Jean mutters, swirling his ice cream around with listless fingers. By the time he had finished his spiel the ice cream has half melted into a psychedelic mess of white, brown, and red.

This place is far too cheery for his liking, with its colourful swirls of pastel pinks and greens and blues. Armin, sitting opposite him, fits right in with his golden hair and baby blue eyes. Jean doesn't. He wants to gulp down alcohol, except Armin is prissy when it comes to places to eat, and he had insisted that if he's going to listen to Jean's story ice cream is needed. So he had allowed himself to be dragged to _Dots of Pleasure_, with its gaggle of teenagers and constant chatter. Jean stuffs another spoonful of 'Titanic Treat' into his mouth and tries to shield his eyes from the doll house colours.

"So…you declined to get his number?" Armin asks. He has this way of looking disapproving even when he's not frowning or anything. It's an Armin skill. "You should have, Jean."

"But, but that'll be the creepy stalker thing you were talking about!" Jean protests.

Armin sighs and carefully scoops up some of the ice cream into his mouth. What is it called? Something like 'Flaming Hot Lady', a mixture of yellow, red, and beige that reminds Jean of muscles. And scooped like that it looks like an arse, or boobs. Armin assures him it's good. Jean just never wants to know what went into the pornographic ice cream.

"Jean, you lost the battle, but look on the bright side. Marco knows your name."

"He knows Eren's too. And he gave him his number," Jean mutters, still bitter about it.

"Well, you know, maybe you've been going about this the wrong way," Armin suggests, propping his elbow up on the table and fiddling with the spoon. "That's why Eren got his number."

"What do you mean?" Jean asks. Forget about the ice cream, this shit that Armin's saying is more important.

"Marco probably took a liking to Eren because Eren was being friendly and, uh…funny. In a not-on-purpose way."

"Armin…" Jean says slowly.

"Face it, Jean, that was a lousy first impression."

Jean drops his face into his hands and fights the urge to groan. "Why are you guys still harping on about that?"

"Because it was terrible," Armin says, cheerful and blunt. He tones down the cheer when Jean looks at him with devastation in his eyes. "But you kind of, um, made Marco see there's more to you than that yesterday! Anyway, my point is, have you tried just being friends with him first?"

"Well, yeah! I mean, I made sure to make the best damn coffee ever for him!" Jean says, running all the encounters through in his head. What better show of friendship is there than making kickass coffee for a guy he likes? And cracking jokes with him?

"No, I mean, getting to know him without thinking of jumping into his pants every second."

"I don't – " Jean feels his face burn – "I don't think of jumping into his pants every second! It's all just, I just want to talk to him, and, and – "

"And kiss him, and take him for walks on the beach, and make slow love to him?" Armin suggests.

Jean stuffs another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, except it's more like slush with its melted status. He hopes the shock of cold stops his face from burning. It doesn't, he can tell – Armin has the little grin on his face that says he knows he's nailed it. "Jean, if that's what you want, you've got to start slow, I think. Chat with him without thinking about screwi – jumping into his pants," Armin corrects when he sees Jean's face get redder. "Eh, who knows, maybe you'll realize you prefer him as a friend after you know him a bit more."

"That is absolutely fascinating. Jean has somebody he likes?"

Armin turns around in his seat and grins at the girl standing behind him, a notepad in her hand. "Hey, Mina."

Mina smiles and walks forward to lean against their table. "Hello boys. Wanted to see if you guys wanted more ice cream. Millius and Nack are driving me crazy."

"Let me guess, singing the _Dotting you everywhere_ song?"

"Sometimes I hate our boss," Mina says, rolling her eyes. "Who let him write that atrocity? But nevermind that." She turns a curious gaze to Jean, noting his still red face and the way he's avoiding her gaze. "Who's Jean in love with this time?"

"Guy named Marco, but I've never met him before."

"Marco no last name?"

"Oh god, no, Armin, stop right there," Jean says with a look of horror. Armin knowing is one thing. Mina knowing, then telling Millius and Nack, the latter of whom is the most gossipy guy Jean has ever known – soon the whole world will know about it. About the joke he had made, but that's less important compared to the fact that somehow, he just knows that _Marco_ will hear about his crush.

"I'm under orders, Mina," Armin says gravely, a twinkle in his eye which translates into _I'll tell you later_. Jean is doomed. Doomed in this pastel doll house with its pornographic ice cream. "Can I have, um…'Wall Maria', please. And Jean will have 'Wall Rose'. My treat," he says when Jean starts to protest he doesn't need anymore ice cream, even if that's his favourite item on the menu, he needs alcohol.

Mina's grin is as disturbing as Armin's twinkly eyes. She scribbles their orders on her notepad and says, "Okay, I was just curious. We're hiring more part-timers, 'cos Millius has to take care of his niece a few more times a week, and we got a Marco submitting an application. I don't remember his last name though. Any of you guys interested, by the way?"

"Got my hands full with research," Armin says, apologetic.

"_Wings_," Jean says as an answer.

"Pity. Well, I doubt it's the same Marco in any case."

"What are the chances, right?" Jean says with a small smile.

The afternoon turns into Armin counseling him over more ice cream even as Jean _knows_, he swears that at that very moment Eren is calling Marco and having a lovey-dovey chat over the phone with him. Armin's reminder that Eren and Mikasa are visiting his family for the weekend does not make it into his head. And he forgets all about part-timers while scooping the delicious but horribly named concoctions into his mouth.

But sometimes he forgets that the gods really dislike him and that the odds tend not to work in his favour. Three days later, after a shift where he avoids talking to Eren and Eren gets increasingly pissed off at him, and Jean mopes because Marco did not visit on Monday, Armin drags him to eat ice cream again so that they can work on their module project. And none other than Marco no last name is standing at the counter, looking up and saying, "Welcome to _Dots of Pleasure_."

* * *

Apologies for the wait! Comments are, as always, greatly appreciated :)


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